Lessons From Oliver
by ForeverLoveAlways
Summary: Oliver is 'really mad'. And by mad, she means furious.


**Hey guys! I'm back with another story/drabble/oneshot. This plot was just bugging me so I had to write it down. Oliver and Felicity are together in this story like they are in the show (I never thought I would say that lol!).**

 **Hope you like it. Enjoy!**

* * *

Oliver stormed through the door, chucking his shoes off and throwing his jacket on the couch. Felicity was surprised he didn't slam the door in her face as she followed in behind him. He was absolutely livid with her which _she_ personally thought was completely unreasonable.

"Oliver. You do realize I'm fine, right?" she said, toeing off her heels and hanging her jacket.

"You could've been hurt!"

"But I'm not! Sometimes we have to take that risk. You of all people know that." she tried to reason.

He whipped around, angry eyes glaring. "No, Felicity. _You_ do not. Do I have to remind you what happened last time?"

She knew he knew she hadn't forgotten. As if she could forget The Count tying her to a chair and playing with her ponytail as he threatened Oliver. But this time was different. Not only was she more trained, but she had also picked up a few handy skills to avoid being kidnapped. So in her defense, she had gotten in, retrieved the information, and gotten back out. Simple as that.

Except it wasn't close to _half_ as simple to Oliver.

"Oliver. Again, I'm fine. Not even a scratch," she said, spreading her arms wide and giving herself a once-over.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, before lashing out again. "The fact that _you_ ," he said, pointing a finger at her, "find nothing wrong with this is why I'm angry with you."

Before she could respond, he stomped towards their bedroom, and a few seconds later, she heard the bedroom door slam shut.

Well, this was gonna be a long night.

* * *

When Oliver finally walked out of the bathroom, she was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, ready for another round of screaming at each other.

As he made his way over to the bed, she watched him, but he ignored her. He didn't even acknowledge her presence as he lifted the covers and laid back on the bed, turning so he was facing the window.

"Oliver?"

He didn't respond, and she squeezed her eyes shut, cursing inwardly. He wasn't going to answer.

Felicity lowered herself back down under the covers, facing his back. She could practically feel his anger still radiating off him.

Chewing on her lip, she tried to figure out the best course of action. Should she wait to talk to him in the morning? He'll sleep it off, right?

She snuggled into her pillow, eyes closed, and tried to pretend this night hadn't happened. That proved to be different when the pillow wasn't half as comfortable as his chest and the blanket didn't wrap around her the way his arms did.

After a couple minutes, she moved closer to him and the instant her skin made contact with his, he scooted away as a warning.

Felicity, of course being Felicity, ignored that warning and moved to press into his back anyways.

He growled as he shoved her off him. _"Don't touch me!"_

Her jaw dropped. "Well that was the last thing I was expecting you to say seeing as we're both half-naked. In a bed. _Together_."

He only gave her a glare in response before he turned away from her again. She sighed.

"Oliver."

No response.

"Oliver," she pleaded. She was exhausted and was prepared to resort to begging to get his arms around her.

Nothing.

 _"Oliver!"_

"What?" He ground out in his Arrow voice.

She moved a little closer. "I'm sorry. I just-"

"I don't care. Go to sleep."

She gaped. "That's not _fair_. How am I supposed to make this right if you won't even let me _talk_..."

"I know you, Felicity. I know you're only apologizing because you want to cuddle."

Damn him for knowing her so well. "No," she insisted. "I'm actually, really, really, _truly_ sorry. So can we please stop fighting now? I'm cold." As if to prove it, she pressed her freezing toes against his muscular calf.

He hissed as he jerked his legs away from her probing feet. "Put on some goddamn socks then."

"Why put on socks when I've got you?" Refusing to take the hint, she kissed the back of his neck, hugging his back.

He stiffened in her arms. "Stop." She smiled as she heard his resolve weakening.

Kissing the back of his neck once more, she trailed kisses down his spine. He still ignored her but didn't push her away either. The moment she tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants to press her lips to his hip, he shot up. He whipped his head around to pin her with a furious glare before swinging his legs off the bed.

With wide eyes, mouth open, she watched in horror as picked up his pillow and walked over to the closet. Grabbing a spare blanket, he headed for the door.

Felicity shot up to her knees. "Where are you going?" She questioned, even though she already knew the answer.

"To get some sleep," he retorted before the slamming the bedroom door.

She stared in shock. Oliver had never, by choice, left her to sleep by herself since they had gotten together.

Felicity dropped back down onto the mattress. Although she knew what he was doing, it still hurt. That little bitch. He was trying to teach her a lesson. Lesson: What would happen if you ever put herself in danger. That overprotective asshole. How are he?

Now she was furious. "Screw you, Oliver!" she yelled, knowing his ninja ears could hear her, before she huffed and drew the comforter over her head.

* * *

Felicity woke up in the middle of the night and instantly reached out for the lump (called Oliver) and found the other side of the bed cold and empty. She groggily opened her eyes, confirming that the bed was indeed Oliver-less.

Confused, she looked at the time. 3AM. Then she registered that his pillow was gone too and that brought the memories back. That asshole was sleeping on the couch.

But he was the asshole she couldn't sleep without. Damn him. Still half asleep, she climbed out of bed, heading towards the living room. Walking softly as to not wake him up, she peered over the couch, finding Oliver curled up on the couch, tangled in the blanket, half of it on the floor, sound asleep.

Her eyes softened at the sight. Suddenly, she felt the strong urge to snuggle in beside him, or on top him, seeing as huge body took up the entire couch.

He looked so innocent without the anger that she felt guilty for getting that damn information without telling him. She sighed. He was already having a rough time with everything else in his life, she didn't want to be something else he needed to worry about too. Not wanting to go back and sleep by herself, she moved around the couch quietly and lowered herself onto the rug.

Settling on the rug, she faced the couch, finding comfort in his close presence. She covered herself with the blanket hanging off the couch before, slowly, she felt her eyes growing heavy again, until her breathing evened out and she drifted off into dreams.

* * *

The next time Felicity woke up, sunlight was streaming in through the window and she was on her back with soft cushions underneath her. Slowly she came into awareness and felt weight across her waist and steady breathing against the side of her neck.

Looking down, she smiled softly at the sight of Oliver's head on shoulder, tucked into her neck, and an arm draped across her stomach. She tilted her head to lean against his lightly as she drew her other hand to rake through his hair gently.

He stirred under her ministrations, lifting her head to peer at her through lidded eyes. She didn't know how to react, not sure if he was still pissed at her but if her ending up on the couch was any indication, the anger had at least faded. He stared at her for a moment, his face so close above hers.

This was probably a good time to apologize in case he was still mad. "Oliver-"

He quickly leaned forward and pecked her lips before he spoke in a sleep-filled, groggy voice. "I'm going to stop the apology ramble right now," And she opened her mouth to retort (the ego of this man, assuming she _was_ going to apologize, even though technically she was going to, but she wasn't about to admit that) but he pressed one finger against her lips, "and say if you ever try to do that again, _you_ will be the one sleeping on the couch and you bet your pretty ass," he paused to squeeze her one of her cheeks, earning him a squeal, "I won't be sleeping on the rug."

* * *

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